


Worms

by TerribleQuestionMark



Series: What it means to Love [3]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Aromantic, Asexual Character, Asexuality Spectrum, Clouds, Dream and Sapnap are mostly in the background but they talk at the end, Established Relationship, Family Fluff, Feelings, Friend Fluff, Gen, GeorgeNotFound-centric (Video Blogging RPF), Karl is a good friend, Light Angst, Mentioned Floris | Fundy, Mentioned Wilbur Soot, Prose Poem, References to Drugs, antfrost - Freeform, at the end, redvelvet, this is an actual one shot but there's a poem at the end, when there's no rep so you write it yourself
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-18
Updated: 2021-01-18
Packaged: 2021-03-12 11:41:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,615
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28759755
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TerribleQuestionMark/pseuds/TerribleQuestionMark
Summary: Cumulus, cumulonimbus, stratocumulus— all different types of clouds that George wished he could reach out and grab— feel the cool concentration of water vapor thread through his fingers as he flew, but he opened his eyes and the clouds couldn't seem farther away.George and all of his friends are in California for TwitchCon, a couple of days before the start of the convention, they hang out in a park and enjoy everyone's company. Except, George is off to the side, alone. What will Karl and George talk about?
Relationships: Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound/Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream/Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF), GeorgeNotFound & Karl Jacobs, GeorgeNotFound/Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF)
Series: What it means to Love [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2048021
Comments: 4
Kudos: 51





	Worms

**Author's Note:**

> Hello!
> 
> This is a continuation of what has now become my new headcanon AU where George is aromantic and everyone else just vibes. This is a work of pure fiction and there is no evidence of ANY of this being real. 
> 
> There are mentions of dreamnotnap 'cause that's the ship that this is written around BUT there is no romance written in this piece. 
> 
> This is a pure platonic interaction between George and Karl. 
> 
> If any of the ccs feel uncomfortable being in this then I'll delete it. 
> 
> SO
> 
> if you are a cc and you're reading this— why. If you stay and read all of this, again, why. 
> 
> if you are NOT a cc, then be sure to proceed but don't send this to them, I'd rather they not know of this lmao.
> 
> ALSO CRITICISM?! MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM
> 
> ty @vestyr for beta reading :D
> 
> **there are definitions at the bottom**

George leaned on his arms, looking up at the clouds that drifted by the California sky. He knew that the indigo blue would soon fade into orange and pink, a consequence of the heavy air pollution from the city. If he closed his eyes, he could almost see the stars that would cover the night sky, a promise of peace and belonging— but it wasn’t night time and George wasn’t in London. 

He sighed, threading his hands through the park’s grass, the sound of his friends playing below him filling the air, providing a small amount of comfort to the British man. 

A shuffling was heard and George turned his gaze to meet Karl. The brunet man was wearing a blue hoodie, one that George could appreciate. He sat down next to George, hugging his knees as they observed the sky.

“Why are you here alone, gogy?” Karl’s voice was gentle, not demanding or overly hyper like his usual self.

George hummed, closing his eyes for a moment to enjoy the small breeze that began to blow by. “I wish I had some weed.”

Karl laughed, shaking his head and smiling. “We get it George, you’re a stoner. You need the weed to become yourself.”

George kept his eyes closed.

Softer, Karl said, “you don’t need to be high to talk about yourself, George.”

George slid so he was laying down, using his arms as pillows for his head. “Maybe not for you since you never shut up,” he inhaled, “but I do.”

“Stop being a nimrod and just talk already, dude. You know you want to.”

“Shut up. I’m not talking until I’m not sober.”

Karl scoffed, laying down next to George. “Just talk, dude… I’m not going to judge you or anything.”

George exhaled from his nose.

“What!” Karl said in mock offense. “I’m not going to judge you, I’m not. I swear on my grandma.”

George felt a small smile grow on his face. Karl’s antics were always amusing to George, he was one of his funniest friends but sometimes he didn’t like his cheerfulness, he thought this was one of those times. Apparently he was wrong.

George sighed, opening his eyes and focusing on the passing clouds once more. 

“I was just thinking,” he began. _Fluffy_ , cumulonimbus— his favorite. 

“Yeah you dingus. What are you thinking about?”

They would be beautifully painted, softly drifting away from his vision later, filled with colors he couldn’t see.

“Just...”

Karl let out an exasperated sigh. “Just what, George.” 

George giggled before continuing, wistful and quiet. “Love.”

The wind blew again, ruffling George’s small fringe and pushing the clouds across the sky once more. The grass beneath him swayed back and forth, waving to their misty friends above as they glittered, slow dancing. The sun shone peacefully, its rays warm on his porcelain skin. 

Karl hummed, “So, love huh.”

“Yeah.” He was nonchalant, acting as if Karl didn’t just pry that snippet of information from him a minute ago. 

“I hate you,” Karl giggled. “But no, really, what about love.”

George pressed his mouth into a straight line. “Hmm, just that seeing Ant and Red be lovely together makes me feel… things.”

Karl lifted his eyebrow, “Things? Good things or bad things?”

“Well,” George took a deep breath, “I’m not sure.”

Karl brought his knees up, resting one leg up on the other, his foot hanging in the air. “We can work this out. What about them makes you feel?”

“I don’t know.” Some clouds were slightly darker than others, they must have been more packed with moisture. “I guess it’s the way they gravitate towards each other. Like they’re birds of a feather—”

“Flocking together.” George turned to glare at Karl. “Sorry, continue.”

“It’s— they’re so happy together. It’s like they feel safe with each other, like they belong with one another.” Quieter, he says, “like they’re in love.”

Karl smiles. “It’s because they are.”

George lifts his hand up from under his head, stretching it— reaching to feel the feathery clouds in the distance. “And I think I hate it. I’m jealous.”

The sky is wide, it covers his peripherals full of white and gray with streaks of blue spread across; it makes George feel tiny and insignificant. 

“Jealous of their love? Wish you had that sort of thing with someone?” Karl nudges him with his elbow, causing him to slightly frown and clench his hand into a fist.

“Touch me one more time and you won’t be using that arm for a week.”

Karl moves his arm back under his own head. “Okay, okay. No need to threaten me. Go on.”

“As I was saying,” George rolls his eyes. “It’s not because of their love but it’s exactly because of it.”

Karl’s eyebrows furrowed, biting his lip. “What do you mean?”

“Well, I— you know how I’m… I’m aromantic, right?”

Karl nodded.

“Well, I think I’m jealous of the way they can experience something that’s so fulfilling to them and, I’m not saying that I wish I knew what falling in love was like— fuck that, I’m just jealous that they get to feel something so… they seem so happy.” He dropped his hand on his chest.

Karl sighed. “You know, this reminds me of when people talk about sex. How they paint it to be this picture of pure joy. Like it’s the best, the most fun, like everyone wants to do it _all the time_.”

George hummed in agreement, remembering the nice pressure in his lower stomach and the past cries of lovers.

“I guess it’s alienating,” said Karl. “I understand what you’re talking about, in theory. I’ve done the act in practice but the feeling, the main part of what you’re talking about— your thesis, it’s not there.”

George nodded. “Most of the time we’re fine. We don’t think about what we’re supposedly missing out on.”

“It’s just, there’s nothing to miss.”

A breeze picked up again, this time pulling a couple of leaves from the nearby trees. They moved in coordination, creating a one of a kind performance, graceful.

“I think it’s because I’m curious,” George blurts out.

“I wanna know what love is,” Karl beggins singing, George pushing him so that he rolls over twice. Laughing, “and I want you to show me.”

George laughs along with him, “shut up, Karl.”

He moves back, laying down next to George, “You’re not actually curious, are you?”

“What? No, I don’t give a fuck about love.” _Yet he sat there talking about it_.

Karl giggles again. “Just making sure.”

George inhaled, holding his breath for a moment. He imagined he was controlling the clouds, his breath synonymous with the water density, waiting to drop everything and rain down on the grass, trees, and people below. He exhaled.

“I hate the idea of love. I hate how it’s portrayed in movies. How it’s what’s expected of people. Don’t you American’s have a stereotype for that?”

“The American Dream: a house, a wife, two kids, and a white fence, yeah.”

George brought both of his hands to his chest, “yeah, I hate that. I hate the way almost every song is about love, or sex. I hate how sex is always related to love. I hate how people have these expectations— heavy, loaded expectations, ones that assume that because I don’t like love, that I don’t want to fall in love, that I’m a terrible person.”

It was Karl’s turn to close his eyes and take a deep inhale before saying, “I also hate how sex is always connected to love. I can love someone and never have sex with them. I don’t have to enjoy their intimate touches more than I enjoy their presence. I hate how if I don’t, many assume I’m a terrible person.”

“They assume we’re terrible people.” George repeated.

“We’re not terrible people, George.” Karl whispered.

“No,” George shook his head, “we’re human.” He looked down on his hands, fiddling his fingers. “And I’m lonely. There, I said it.”

Karl exhaled from his nose. “Quoting Wilbur now?”

“No,” he deadpanned. “But even though I’m lonely, I’m not actually lonely.”

George sat up crossed his legs and averted his gaze from the clouds, from the sky and every place he wished he was, and looked at his friends. Karl mimicked his movements, slightly stretching his arms.

George gestured with his wrist, “I have my friends. I have Sapnap. I have Dream.”

They were running around, playing a game of football— _soccer_ , that he didn’t notice starting. Sapnap was running with the ball, trying to get past Tommy and Tubbo when Fundy stole it, ran, and shot. Dream caught the ball with his hands, causing the Dutch man to groan and throw his head back in frustration. They were loud and obnoxious, their cheerful cries coaxing a small ball of pride in his chest.

“I thought you three were more than friends?” Karl placed his face in his hands.

George smirked, resting his cheek so it was leaning on his left hand. “Is that what you think?”

Karl laughed before quickly dropping into a confused expression. “Are you three not… together?”

George burst out laughing, catching the attention of some of their friends across the grass. Sapnap raised an eyebrow, silently asking him what he was laughing so hard about. George waved him off, rubbing his face as he quieted down, giggling. 

“No,” reaching out to touch Karl’s shoulder when the cheerful man started blushing, “don’t worry, it’s— we don’t have a label for what we are, Karl. We’re not like _boyfriends_ or _dating_ but we’re together.”

Karl seemed to relax, dropping his shoulders despite his face not getting any less red. 

George giggled once more, returning to the sky. It was starting to change color, the fluffy clouds began to shift from their stark blank color to a darker hue, blending into the sunset he could barely see. George wished the city sky wasn’t so polluted so he could count the never ending stars that belonged there. 

“We’re like two worms, George.”

George puckered his bottom lip out and scrunched his eyebrows, “Worms?”

“‘Cause we don’t experience the world the same way the allos do.” He gestured between them, pointing at George, “An aro—” pointing at himself, “and an almost ace.”

George shook his head, “You’re an idiot.”

“What the honk!”

George giggled, looking back at Karl before noticing an approaching presence. A big shadow washed over them, blocking the sunset from George’s eyes. 

“What are you honking about Karl?” Dream stood tall next to them, a small smile on his lightly freckled face. 

Looking up at the blond George said, giggling, “Nothing you would understand, Dream.”

Dream scoffed in mock offense, “Oh come on, George, there’s no way—”

“There is! Karl called us worms!”

“What? Being a slug would be better.”

Karl scoffed. “No, it’s because we were talking about birds. Listen, there are birds in the world right? They fly together and build nests together.”

Dream sat on the other side of George, legs stretched out in front of him, arms supporting his weight as he leaned back to look at Karl. George felt his smile widen as he listened to Karl talk.

“There are many different kinds of birds, vultures that eat dead things, sparrows that look cute just jumping around, seagulls that steal my fries and pigeons— stupid pigeons and their stupid faces. Why do they exist! All they do is eat trash and get in the way of my—”

“Okay Karl! No need to hate on pigeons. Calm down dude.” Dream said, a smile spread across his face.

“And you said _I_ was referencing Wilbur?” George teased.

“Okay stop. You didn’t even get it right you nimrod, Wilbur hates anteaters not _pigeons_.” Karl laughed loudly again, putting his head in between his knees, his shoulders shaking up and down.

George turned to look at Dream, his smile growing impossibly wider. He basked in the presence of his friend and not quite lover, sitting on the grass watching the sunset with some of the people he loved the most. 

“If most people are birds, then we are worms.” George waved between himself and Karl, the latter nodding. “Birds feel safe in knowing that they exist in a community, flying together and keeping watch for the other. Worms feel safe digging in the dirt, enjoying their daily mundane life without ever thinking about flying.”

George stared at the horizon, tree branches swaying softly with the wind. “Sometimes, the birds feel bad for the worms. They can’t fly. They eat dirt. They lay eggs but don’t take care of their young like the birds do.”

He felt a warm hand on his knee, Dream’s hand. “They’re perfectly fine as they are but sometimes—” he met Dream’s eyes with his own, “—sometimes they can talk about their thoughts without getting high.”

Dream stuck out his tongue and winked. George physically cringed away from Dream, bumping into Karl, the latter rolling away from both men. All three of them burst out laughing, the sun gone and the sky dark.

“Hmm, well then.” Dream got up and dusted his pants, reaching a hand out to help George up. “Let's get these worms back to the air bnb.”

George grabbed his hand and hauled himself up. “Come on, Karl. I’m tired.”

A few meters away, Karl stuttered, “What— what, I— how are _you_ tired? You didn’t even play any of the games the last few hours!”

“Exactly, I’m tired.”

“George?” Karl gaped at the brunet man.

Laughing, Dream pulled George along leaving Karl behind. The lights dimly lit up their faces as they made their way to the car. The quiet night hummed to life as their friends picked up all their equipment and began packing up. Sapnap slung his arm around George when they reached the rental, providing some warmth for the night chill.

“You good gogy?” A small smile on his face. 

George smiled back, his cheeks hurting from smiling all day. “Yeah. Just a worm on a string.”

Sapnap laughed and shook his head, opening the door for George as Dream made his way to the driver's seat.

They moved to the back seats, Sapnap laying his head on George’s shoulder and intertwining their hands together. He couldn’t see the clouds from the inside of the car, despite the fact that he wouldn’t be able to see them in the night sky anyway. Yet, George closed his eyes and breathed in Sapnap’s smell. He could almost see the stars behind them. 

____________

A poem about birds

Fly  
Touch the clouds for me  
beat those wings with a passion for life, greet  
your younglings, they have much to look forward to

But come look for me  
before the sun peaks through and burns my skin  
before the rain comes and drowns out our passion

Come for me  
and release me from the strings of fate  
never to return to the place— my haven  
take me away and free me

Free me from your expectations  
underneath, which you chain me.  
counter, undo the evil that named me  
kill what you’ve created

Ill will bears not in my mind  
nothing will satiate the thirst, the  
gluttony to touch, devour 

Liberty in all its glory  
only existing in our faded breaths  
viable not in actions but in the  
everlasting war between our species

Yell, scream, punch—  
over and over, until we  
understand that our efforts are in vain

Because I cannot dream of what  
Life is like as a bird  
and you cannot as a worm  
But I still long for the day I can reach the stars

together//never

**Author's Note:**

> aromantic: a person who experiences little to no romantic attraction; also used as a scale of measurement that varies from person to person
> 
> asexual: a person who experiences little to no sexual attraction; also used as a scale of measurement that varies from person to person
> 
> allo: a term used to describe people who feel attraction; usually used when talking about _aromanticism_ and _asexuality_ , where both describe lack of attraction
> 
> air bnb: an acronym standing for air mattress bed and breakfast; a service where people rent their houses for short periods of time, often used instead of booking a hotel
> 
> follow me on twitter maybe  @terrible_pie 


End file.
